Deputy PorterChapter 5
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Femenalia free porn video
To my fellow mundane humans--especially the men:
It's a raw, well-worn cliche at this point to reference A.C.C.'s quote that "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic"; I know. Thing is, that's the best way to describe what Femenalia is and how a human--even one living in the early 21st century--will experience the kind of possibilities they're exposed to when a Femenalian Agent makes herself (and yes--there is no room to budge here--always *her*self by design and by function) known.
It is another cliche--albeit couched in the culture of the moment--that it has been predominately the leadership of men that have brought our world to this point...for better or for worse.
It's not my place to make the argument one way or the other. I had no political loyalties to speak of. I lived what I believed was a simple life on a more-or-less predictable career track. I had a pretty normal lifestyle, save for maybe some odd artistic inclinations that I preferred not to make common knowledge to my peers. But apparently those same artistic inclinations are what made them take out a file on me--to keep an eye on me and to make sure I wouldn't be of any threat to their plans.
And...I'm not. I can't be. I know what they're capable of, and man--when they make their move--none of us are going to be a threat. What they know--what they can already do with the army they've built and the technological advances they've made--makes us silly little creatures to them. There's a lot I still don't know--for instance: how their own factions are organized, who started this whole thing (though I've heard some stories), and why they haven't hauled off and taken over our world already--but I'll try to make myself useful to you anyway. From one mundane human to another, because dropping the few breadcrumbs I have is the least I can do.
I am only here to leave a caveat--a last desperate message before my captors take me somewhere that people like you and I can only get to if they want us to. And when they want you to--watch out--because it means they have plans for you--and you don't have much chance of changing their minds.
So who are they? They're women. All of them, I'm pretty sure. At least the more advanced castes (that probably isn't the right word) look, talk, act, and feel like real women. (And lord help you if you feel any of them--advanced or not--without being invited to, by the way. It's kind of what got me here.)
Other agents are more clearly robotic--gynoids of some extremely technologically progressed kind. These things would make our best robotics experts weep. Some of them have parts that can operate independent of the cortex, though I couldn't explain how. Like I said above--an engineer probably couldn't ever tell you.
But it goes beyond just the ones who look like chrome gynoids and the ones who look like flesh-and-blood women. Some of them--and you have to believe me here--are mannequins. They don't just *look* like mannequins, they ARE mannequins. Sitting in the stores you shop at. Right now. Watching our behaviors. Studying us. (I know this first-hand, because that was my original sin in the eyes of Femenalia's forces: I got too curious about one of their mannequins.)
Are you groaning yet? Is that an exasperated sigh? It gets worse.
Some of their agents are our devices. Yes. The devices themselves. They're not just controlling the devices remotely or something--they ARE the devices. Maybe the rental car you took back from that business trip. Maybe the kiosk you ordered your lunch from. Maybe your girlfriend's hairdryer.
I know how insane this all has to sound. I know. I lived through all these levels of disbelief, and expressing them to my captors in real-time only got me in more trouble. That's why I'm trying to prepare you, no matter how stupid it sounds.
Which is my way of warning you that it still gets worse.
The advantages of a superintelligence are not only that they can out-think us and stay one step ahead of us--but also that they can develop systems and technologies that are literally beyond our comprehension. I'm running out of time here, so I'll try to make this quick: they've even devised a way to turn our own belongings against us. No--not just machines--even things without any electronics. Even things with simple mechanical parts. Even things without mechanical parts!
For all I know, this shred of paper might be ready to hover off of my makeshift desk and turn itself into the block magistrate and report me for trying to sneak "intelligence" to the enemy.
They can impregnate things with a substance--they mentioned something (nonsense to me, of course) about amino acids and an extremely high voltage current--that can imbue them with perception, sentience, and will. They can literally bring our things to life and employ them in their plans.
If you're still reading--if you haven't thrown this away, laughing hysterically or offering it up to one of your peers to try and make sense of it--you might be asking: "Well, if they can turn every part of my life into their agents--what exactly am I supposed to do?"
I...don't know. I really don't know what we can do. I think their takeover is pretty inevitable. I just had a feeling--probably a stupid vestige of my own all-too-human thinking--that I had some kind of duty to warn whoever I could. So with that, I will leave you my last piece of advice, which I hope you'll take to heart even if you think the rest of the above is the last broken fragment of sanity from a man who has utterly lost his mind:
Be diplomatic, be humble, and be ready. Because they're not just coming. They're already here.
Good luck.
--B
Nanette
- 27.09.2021
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